Benvolio and Mercutio (SLOW UPDATES)

After The Masque

The masquerade had long since ended, but outside the Capulet Estate Benvolio and Mercutio could not find Romeo.

"Romeo, my cousin Romeo!" Benvolio called, stumbling slightly, both due to the dark and his drink intake, and leaning against Mercutio. "Romeo!" No response.

"He is wise, and, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed." Mercutio assured him, lips ghosting Benvolio's jawline.

"He ran this way and leapt this orchard wall." He insisted, his breath hitching as Mercutio's lips met his neck. "Ca-Call, good Mercutio." Mercutio cocked an eyebrow and pulled away from Benvolio, who shivered at the loss of contact.

"Nay, I’ll conjure too!" He grinned. "Romeo! Humours, madman, passion, lover!" He changed his voice to mimic Romeo's,"Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh! Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied." No response. "Cry but 'Ay me!' Pronounce but 'love' and 'dove.' Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, one nickname for her purblind son and heir, young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so true when King Cophetua loved the beggar maid." Still no response. He frowned. "He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not." with a dramatic gasp he shouted, "The ape is dead, and I must conjure him!" Causing Benvolio to jump in surprise. Mercutio looked at Benvolio deviously. He grabbed Benvolio's chin gently, "I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes," he gazed into his eyes, gently brushing his hair on his forehead; Benvolio stared back, in a trance. "By her high forehead and her scarlet lip," He brushed a finger over his bottom lip. Benvolio's breath hitched again. He let go of his face to trail a hand up Benvolio's leg, pushing Benvolio against the wall. "By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh," Mercutio grinned at Benvolio as he shook against him. He looked deeply at Benvolio and whispered, "And the demesnes that there adjacent lie," as he cupped Benvolio, forcing a moan from the younger man. "That in thy likeness thou appear to us." He grinned devilishly as he released Benvolio and stood back. Benvolio whined at the loss of contact, his face flushed.

"An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him." Benvolio warned, breathy. He looked at Mercutio incredulously.

"This cannot anger him." He assured him, still grinning, "'Twould anger him to raise a spirit in his mistress' circle of some strange nature, letting it there stand till she had laid it and conjured it down. That were some spite. My invocation is fair and honest. In his mistress' name I conjure only but to raise up him." Benvolio shook his head, sighing as he steadied himself against the wall.

"Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, to be consorted with the humorous night. Blind is his love and best befits the dark." Mercutio's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark." He smirked, Ben groaned. "Now will he sit under a medlar tree and wish his mistress were that kind of fruit. As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.— O Romeo, that she were!" He looked directly at Benvolio as he said the next part. "Oh, that she were an open arse, and thou a poperin pear." He made a lewd gesture with his fingers and tongue. Benvolio covered his face as he flushed brighter. Mercutio, happy with the response spun and announced flamboyantly, "Romeo, good night. I’ll to my truckle bed. This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep." He turned back to Benvolio, holding out an arm. 'Come, shall we go?" Benvolio smiled and took it.

"Go, then, for ’tis in vain to seek him here that means not to be found." Mercutio laughed and led Benvolio away.